Hermione Granger: Brightest Witch of Her Age
by SometimesYouFeelLikeaKnut
Summary: ****Chapter 4 is up!**** Hermione's story from the very beginning. She arrives in an unforgettable fashion and finds her place in the wizarding world. Once at Hogwarts, enjoy missing moments from the books from Hermione's perspective!
1. Chapter 1: Birth

**Birth**

_London, England 1979_

Joyce pushed as hard as she could, clenching John's hand, sweat pouring down her face.

"C'mon, sweetheart. You can do this. Just one more push."

"That's…what…you said…ten…pushes ago…you're never touching…me again," Joyce panted.

John looked down at his wife, her brown curly hair as bushy as it had been when they had first met at dentistry school. Her brown eyes were wild as well, though they were usually serene and lost in thought. He squeezed her hand assuredly, "This time I mean, it." Joyce nodded her agreement. She wasn't going to give up so easily.

"Good, Mrs. Granger. You can do this. Mr. Granger, would you like to see the baby as it comes out? Or would you rather stay up there with your wife?" asked Dr. Wolfshire.

John Granger looked into his wife's eyes; he knew it was really up to her. She smirked, "Go ahead sweetie. You want to be able to hold the baby today, so," and she released his hand from her vice-like grip.

"All right, Mrs. Granger," said Dr. Wolfshire as John stepped to the end of the bed and peered between his wife's legs.

"Doctor…," John started, but he was interrupted by his wife's scream as she pushed once more. He was about to ask the doctor if all that blood was normal, but his answer came when his wife's heart monitor started beeping rapidly and his wife fell limply back into the bed.

"Doctor! What! What's wrong? My wife…my baby…what's happening?" John begged as a nurse moved him out of the room without him noticing as other nurses rushed into the room. The last thing John saw before the door closed was a path of bloody footprints that led from the base of the bed to the door where he now stood, helpless.

* * *

Arnold Peasegood was very excited. This was not a drill; he was actually going to obliviate some Muggles after a magical occurrence at a Muggle hospital. It was his first night on duty and this was not a drill. He didn't know all the details yet, except that a magical child had just been born and had made sure to let everyone know it had arrived. He would not know exactly what happened until he spoke to Articus Wimbimble, a healer who disguised himself as a Muggle doctor for just such an occasion.

Arnold buffed the tips of his boots one more time before walking briskly to the Disapparition room. The veteran Oblivators stood there casually, some rather bored. They were nearing the ends of their careers, so they got simple assignments like this. Other Oblivators worked on wiping memories of the tragedy, or at least the magical element of it, that had become common in England since You-Know-Who had gained so much support, voluntary or otherwise. Since Arnold was new, they were starting him out slow. The memories that had the emotion behind them as a result of death were much more difficult to obliviate than the accidental underage magic of a newborn baby.

Arnold wasn't thinking about how relatively boring his assignment was. He was too eager.

"All right, gentlemen," someone cleared their throat, "…and lady…this is a fairly simple task and you all know the drill. Peasegood!" Arnold stood up straighter, ignoring the chuckles that resulted from his over eagerness. "What is the first rule to remember when dealing with accidental underage magic of a Muggle-born?"

Arnold shouted, quite unnecessarily, "Never Oblivate the parents, Sir!" The woman who had cleared her throat earlier rolled her eyes and prayed to Merlin that she would not get stuck with the rookie as a partner. She always got stuck with them and, even though she was only 27 years old, stuck on these simple assignments in a time of war because she was a woman. She was tempted to take a page out of Muggle women's books and burn her bras.

"And why is that, Peasegood?" asked the squad leader, Frank Gusto.

"So when they learn their child is a witch or wizard, they will have memories of strange occurrences to help them believe that revelation," he replied in one breath.

"Exactly! Now, Healer Wimbimble should have rounded up all the witnesses for us in a fake impromptu meeting on patient/doctor hygiene. But, as you know, sometimes there are a few strays. Peasegood! O'Riley!" The young witch rolled her eyes and smoothed back her bangs, her tell-tale sign of annoyance.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Yeah?" they replied at the same time.

"You two will be responsible for finding any stray witnesses. What are the tell-tale signs of a Muggle who has seen something magical? O'Riley!" Peasegood looked disappointed that he wasn't asked to answer this one and shifted his weight on his feet impatiently.

"Well, they tend to look extremely confused and I would take a guess that, in this case, if they are a nurse or doctor, they will not be doing their duties and perhaps wandering aimlessly through the halls as they try to decide if they are insane or not. I say we check the nurse's station for the names of personnel who were in the room at the time, cross check those names with those in the fake meeting, and only search if there is anyone missing."

Arnold was glad she had answered because he was prepared to check the entire hospital for possible witnesses. Her way sounded much more practical.

"Good! Brown, you're with me. We'll handle the witnesses in the conference room and feed the father a story."

"What about the mother?" asked O'Riley.

"Well, as far as I understand, she was bleeding out and was unconscious at the time, so it is pertinent that we find the father."

"What do you mean, 'find the father?'" asked Peasegood. This was one question he had asked in the past three months that didn't annoy his squad-mates. They had been thinking the same thing.

* * *

John hypnotically put on the scrubs the nurse had provided for him after he had vomited all over his own clothes after seeing the path of his bloody footprints. He heard a commotion down the hall in the direction of his wife's room. He threw open the supply closet door and sprinted in her direction. Nurses were running from the room, panic in their eyes. He pushed past them and stopped in the doorway. There was no blood; not a drop anywhere. Even his footprints were gone.

His hazel eyes flashed when he saw the doctor, huddled in a corner.

"What the-? Why are you-?" John turned toward his wife. Her pulse was steady and though she was still passed out, John knew she would be okay. Suddenly he realized something was missing.

"Where is our baby?" The doctor motioned toward the other side of the room and he saw it: a tiny, little being. "Why isn't it crying?" The doctor shook his head. "Goddamn it! Will you just speak? What the bloody hell happened?" John normally never swore, but he figured decorum could be ignored for such an abnormal situation. "Why were people running away? What the fu-?" His next tirade of swearing was cut off as another doctor entered the room.

"Mr. Granger, my deepest apologies for the commotion. I'm Doctor Wimbimble. I have been told by a few nurses that, well…I'm not sure you should know the details, but let it suffice to say that your wife's blood supply was replenished."

"No, I want details and I want them now! I leave here and my wife is practically hemorrhaging, I'm pushed out, and I come back to find her doctor mute and all the blood gone? I don't see any transfusion bags, so just how the hell was my wife's blood replenished? How?!"

"There will be time for answers to those questions, sir, but I think now it will best if you lower your voice. Your wife needs her sleep and your baby has been through quite a lot as well. It's quite jarring being removed from the womb."

Suddenly John felt incredibly stupid. Here he was, yelling and cursing, because no one would tell him why his wife was better and his baby fine. He could hear it cooing now.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked as his mind calmed and he remembered the entire reason for being in the hospital in the first place.

"It's a girl," warbled the doctor in the corner as he rose shakily to his feet. "And she already has a little hair. It looks like she may take after her mother quite a bit."

John saw what he meant as he approached the receiving carrier where his little girl lay. It was love at first sight. She had Joyce's brown hair in the form of a mass of curls at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were blue, as all newborns' were, but he was sure they would turn brown. She looked up at him with the same serenity and thoughtfulness that his wife's eyes always conveyed. In fact, had it not been for his nose on her face, he would've thought Joyce had created the little miracle herself.

"It was horrible…" he heard Dr. Wolfshire whisper. They obviously thought he couldn't hear them, so he stayed still. "One second her pulse was racing and there was blood everywhere, the next the baby was out and there was a flash and then red. Just red…red everywhere…but it wasn't coming out…it was going back in. How is that possible? It doesn't make any sense."

"Miracles never make sense," said John as he turned to them. "They are only wonderful."

Then he disappeared with a pop.

* * *

Arthur and Cordelia O'Riley left the conference room, him eager to find Dr. Wolfshire, the lead doctor, and her annoyed that the doctor hadn't shown up to the meeting.

"So, where should we search first? Should we start from the bottom up or the top down?" asked Arthur excitedly.

"Neither. We start searching on the floor where the baby was born, which happens to be this one. If we split up, it should go a lot faster."

"But, we're not supposed to split up! You're supposed to guide me!"

"Look, if you expect me to hold your hand, you can forget it. I'm not a babysitter."

Apparently this offended Arnold enough to change his mind. "Fine. But, let's meet back here in say, fifteen minutes?"

"Fine."

Arnold didn't know what he had done to anger his partner, but he pushed those thoughts aside as he thought about if he had just seen blood pour back into someone and then the father disapparate where he would go. He decided he'd probably be sick to his stomach and run to the bathroom, so he checked there first. The only person in there when he arrived, however, was a gruff looking bloke who eyed him suspiciously as he hovered too closely at the urinal. He had just hastily left when Dr. Wolfshire exited one of the stalls, clad in his street clothes.

As Arnold peeked into the staff locker room, realizing too late that it was the woman's ("Get out of here, you pervert!"), he heard a pop behind him. He turned around, wand at the ready. You could never be too careful nowadays. He saw that it was just a man in scrubs holding a baby. He lowered his wand and discreetly waved it to do a magic revealing spell. Only the baby was magical it seemed, as a bright golden glow surrounded her which only he could see. _This must be the doctor!_ He had to meet up with O'Riley in five minutes, so he didn't have time to thoroughly question and debrief the doctor. He thought quickly.

"Oblivate! You were just about to take this child to the nursery and then go check on the mother who almost bled out, but was given transfusions in time. The room has been thoroughly scrubbed for sanitary reasons," Arthur said quickly and then walked away.

John Granger blinked once and headed towards the nursery and then to his wife, oblivious to the miracle that had occurred and to the fact he had just been transported several dozen meters away from the room by his new baby.

Cordelia walked briskly back to their meeting place. She had just finished Obliviating the doctor. She had caught him by the lift on his way out. She almost didn't realize it was him until she saw how paranoid his body language was. She spotted Arnold before he spotted her and she noticed he seemed smug about something. She wasn't sure what he could possibly be smug about. Unless…

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed as she pulled him into a stairwell. "You didn't Oblivate the doctor, did you?"

He was confused; he thought that was the entire point. "Um…yes? Was I not supposed to?"

"No, but you didn't Oblivate the doctor! I did!"

"But, my guy Apparated behind me with the baby or rather the baby Apparated with him," he said uncertainly, "and he was wearing scrubs!"

"Did you not hear that nurse say she had given the father scrubs to change into after he lost his lunch all over his own clothes? Do you not pay attention? We may not be Aurors, but we have to be just as observant as they are!"

"I can fix it! I'll just go back…"

"No, you can't! You can't give him his memory back after taking it! Removing it in the first place changes it completely and if you put it back, it may be worse than what actually happened! No, I'll just have to write you up for stupidity and carelessness. Where is he now?"

"Who?"

"The father!"

"Oh, I sent him to take the child to the nursery and then to see the mother."

"Good. At least you did one thing right and…wait, did you say earlier that the baby Apparated?"

"Well, yes."

"That's not possible. I've never heard of a baby that young doing magic that advanced, even on accident. The only reason it did anything today was because its mother was in danger of dying and it was still connected to her through the umbilical cord. We have to report this immediately!"

"Why?" Arnold asked, no longer confident in his abilities, and quite afraid of being fired on his very first day of duty.

"Because whoever that child is, they are going to be very powerful some day."


	2. Chapter 2: Neverland

**Chapter Two**

**Neverland**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, I'm just playing in Jo's sandbox.

Hermione Granger skipped through her mother's garden in her Easter dress hoping she would spot the fairy she had seen the day before. Her mum was crying again, so she knew she had at least a half hour to explore the garden, which at her size was a forest, without being told what and what not to do. She wanted to ask the fairy where it came from this time for she had been too surprised by seeing it the day before to think of anything to say.

She thought she saw something under the rosebushes, so she squatted down, careful not to dirty her dress, but still unable to resist a tottering motion which threatened the hem of her dress with soil.

Hermione gasped. There it was, hovering, oblivious to her presence until she spoke. "Where do you come from?" Hermione whispered for somehow she knew that she needed to keep the fairy secret from any prying neighbors. Hermione was very good at keeping secrets.

The fairy was green with dark brown hair that was just as frizzy as Hermione's, though it was not as fully dressed as Hermione with only a cloth to cover its "no-no place" as the little almost-two-year old called it. The fairy turned its back on her, something she thought Tinkerbelle would do, so she tried again. "Please? Can you take me where you come from? I don't want to grow up. All you do is cry and slam doors," Hermione begged, wide-eyed; and though it came out as babbling, the fairy understood.

Its wings fluttered and it sprinkled some golden dust onto the petals of a blushing pink rose. Hopeful, Hermione closed her eyes and thought of books, waiting to be covered with dust so she could fly to Neverland. After a moment, with no difference in how she felt, she opened her eyes. The fairy was gone, the only sign it had been there was the word "SOON" hovering in the air in golden dust. Hermione lost her balance and flopped gracefully to the ground.

What did that mean? Maybe it would tell her tomorrow! Or maybe it wanted her to tell her mum first!

Hermione bounded through the garden towards the house, opening the door to the kitchen carefully as it always squeaked. She wanted to change clothes before she asked her mum to go to the garden with her. Her mum caught her tiptoeing up the stairs.

"Hermione! What have you done to your dress?" cried Mrs. Granger.

Looking sheepish, Hermione turned around and tried to explain, "It was the fairy, Mum!"

Mrs. Granger sighed, "Not this again. You know very well that fairies don't exist!"

"Show you!" Hermione insisted and turned towards the kitchen.

Mrs. Granger caught her daughter's arm before she could get far. "First, we are going to put that dress in the washer. You need it to wear when you visit Grandma Granger next weekend."

"Fine, hurry," and Hermione promptly stripped down to her underwear, unabashed as only a toddler could be.

"C'mon, sweetie, there are some clean trousers and a t-shirt in the laundry room for you," Mrs. Granger said as she took her daughter's hand.

On their way down the stairs, Hermione kept hold of her mother's hand (she never understood why they had to be so high up). Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something missing. "Mum? Where'd the bump go? Did it hide like the fairy?"

Mrs. Granger touched her stomach and answered shakily, "No, Pumpkin, it…," she took a deep breath, "it decided it wasn't ready."

"For what?" asked Hermione, unaware of the pain she was causing her mother.

"I don't know."

"Okay, Mummy." Her mum knew everything and when she said she didn't know something, Hermione had learned it meant she didn't want to talk about it.

They dressed Hermione and put her dress in the washer, then Hermione grabbed her mum's hand and pulled, leaning her own body almost to the point of falling over.

"Hurry!" Hermione exclaimed, hoping the fairy had returned while she was gone.

Dubious, Mrs. Granger nonetheless let her daughter drag her up the stairs, through the kitchen, out the back door, and over to her rosebushes.

"It was just here!" exclaimed Hermione, resuming her squatting and tottering motion.

"Maybe it doesn't like adults," said Mrs. Granger as she squatted too, looking at the top of her daughter's precious head, rather than the rosebush.

"Let's sit, Mommy!"

Mrs. Granger drew Hermione into her lap as she sat cross-legged on the ground. She listened to Hermione describe the fairy and talk about Neverland and wished she could go there herself.

* * *

Hermione dressed as Tinkerbelle for Halloween that October. She walked in between her parents, using their arms to swing through the air. They were headed to a Halloween party at her dad's boss's house. He had a little girl her age and Hermione hoped she loved books as much as she did. She couldn't read yet, but her parents read to her all the time.

The worst possible sight greeted Hermione as she entered the playroom: dolls. They were everywhere. And what was worse, there was not a book in sight. Hermione didn't really hate dolls, but she noticed that the two other girls in the room were huddled together, dolls in hand. They were older. One of them looked up.

"Who are you?" asked the dark-haired one.

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione proudly. She loved her name.

The girls giggled, "Hermione?" asked the red-head, "What kind of name is that?"

"I don't know," said Hermione shyly. "It's just my name."

"Well, I'm Jennifer and this is Stacey," said the dark-haired girl. "Want to play dolls?"

"Book?" asked Hermione without thinking.

"What kind of answer is that? Oh, do you want to read?" Hermione nodded. "My books are in my bedroom; it's across the hall," Jennifer said as she pointed to her bedroom door.

"Thank you," Hermione said and bounded off to find a book. She heard Stacey say, "What a nutter," before she was out of earshot. Tears welled in her eyes and blurred the titles of the books as she looked at Jennifer's collection. She decided on a book about barn animals that had pictures and settled herself on the bed, looking at the pictures and desperately trying to figure out the words.

A couple of hours later, Mrs. Granger trudged up the stairs to gather Hermione, slowly removing her costume of a winning smile with each step she took. She had lost another child just three weeks before and was losing hope. She peeked her head in the playroom.

"Where's Hermione, girls?" she asked the two girls who were now immersed in a serious conversation with a giraffe, a panda, and a pig over tea and biscuits. The dark-haired girl gestured across the hall and Mrs. Granger nodded her thanks and turned to face the girl's bedroom door. Mrs. Granger couldn't help but smile at the image before her.

Hermione was laying on her stomach on the bed, book under her cheek, and a good amount of drool covering one of the pages. Mrs. Granger gathered Hermione, who mumbled something about chickens, in her arms and made her way downstairs. Mr. Granger was waiting for her at the door.

"It's a clear night," he whispered as he opened the door, putting his hand on the small of Mrs. Granger's back as she stepped onto the front steps. She immediately hurried out of his reach.

"Brr, it's cold," she said lamely as she hurried to the car.

Mr. Granger sighed after shutting the door after his wife slid into her seat. He had hoped that a night out with some adults would help them out, but it had only served to backfire.

They drove home in silence, oblivious to the several dozen owls swarming overhead and of the significance it held for their daughter's future.


	3. Chapter 3: Eleven

**Chapter Three**

**Eleven**

_September 19, 1990_

She was falling. She knew she never should have climbed this tree. She couldn't scream. In fact, everything seemed very quiet, as though all the sound had been sucked out of the atmosphere, leaving only her thoughts to fill the space. Her arms flailed out in an effort to catch a branch to at least slow her down. She wondered how she would land. She really hoped she didn't land on her head or neck; she had seen a movie where that happened to someone and they couldn't walk anymore.

Her hair got caught in branches, enhancing the bushiness to the point of ridiculousness. Her hair caught, but her arms were simply scratched and bruised with each branch they hit on the way down. She was falling fast and thought all of this in a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, almost a relief, she met the ground.

She bounced. All she could utter was a surprised, "Oh," as she bounced a little more before coming to rest about a meter from the trunk of the tree. She lay there, afraid to move. Afraid to look at them. But, then, the sound came whooshing back and the air was filled with exclamations of "Wow! Did you see that? She bounced! She bounced! Wicked!" and "Oh my God, Hermione, are you okay?" and "I knew she'd fall, pay up," (there was a jingle of coins).

Black hair and blue eyes filled her field of vision as her only friend, Jennifer, leaned over her and offered her hand, "Let me help you up, Hermione," she said. Hermione grasped her hand and pulled herself up, then brushed the dirt and grass off her backside. She looked around at everyone staring at her. She wanted to run. She just knew they were going to make fun of her, just like every other time she did something that couldn't be explained.

To her astonishment, they began patting her on the back and asking how she did it and if she could do it again.

"I-I-I don't think…no, I can't. It was a fluke…the wind or something…." The leaves mocked her as they hung perfectly still in the absence of wind.

"Do it again!" cried one boy. Soon everyone but Jennifer and Hermione were chanting "Again! Again! Do it again!" Hermione knew she couldn't possibly recreate whatever had just happened, so she ran.

She ran, hair streaming behind her. She ran past her parents who were setting up the birthday cake and had apparently not noticed her fall on the other side of the park.

"Hermione!" called her mother, confused. "Jennifer, what's going on?"

She ran harder, knowing now that her friend was in pursuit and could almost always outrun her. Her legs were burning and her heart was beating a hole through her chest. She ran the three blocks to her house and then realized she didn't have a key to the door, so she sat on the front steps, with her legs crushed to her chest and arms hugging her legs. That was a bad idea; she stretched her legs trying to stop the cramps.

_Meow_

She chanced a glance in the direction of the park and was not surprised to see Jennifer catching her breath not far from her house. Her parents would be along at any moment. What was she going to tell them? What reason could she give them for running away?

"Since…when…have…you run…so fast?" heaved Jennifer as she plopped down next to Hermione and lay back on the porch landing.

"I don't know, but my legs really hurt," replied Hermione as she shook a cramp out of one leg.

"So…how did you do it? You know, the bounce trick?" asked Jennifer as she sat back up, shielding her eyes from the setting sun.

"I honestly have no idea. I thought for sure I was never going to walk again," said Hermione as all the odd occurrences in her life passed through her mind like a home video.

_A green fairy and the word "SOON" in glittering gold letters hovering in mid-air…_

_Walking through London and seeing that pub that no one else could…_

_Running from the big dog down the street and making it over that fence in one leap…_

_And now this: bouncing out of trees. _

_Meow_

It didn't make any sense to Hermione. She had never told her parents about any of those things except for the fairy and she had been so young that her mum had thought it was just her imagination. Hermione wished it was that simple.

A car screeched to a halt in front of the townhouse. Hermione could see that her parents had packed up her presents and cake and decorations before racing home. Her mother was the first out of the car, having opened her door before the car had fully stopped.

"Hermione? What's wrong sweetheart?" asked her mum with such confusion and kindness in her eyes that Hermione almost told her what happened. Almost.

_Meow_

A tabby cat was sitting on the step next to Hermione, looking up at her. It had spectacle-like markings around its eyes. It seemed to understand what they were saying for it seemed to be telling Hermione to tell her parents everything she could. For some reason, Hermione felt scolded and knew she should tell her parents everything. She couldn't do it with Jennifer there, though, for not even her best friend knew all of the strange occurrences.

Sensing this was what Hermione wanted, Mrs. Granger said, "Jennifer, why don't you go on home? Hermione will call you later."

"Yes, Mrs. Granger," she hugged Hermione, "You're eleven now! See you at school!" and Jennifer jogged towards her house.

"C'mon, sweetie, let's go inside," Mrs. Granger turned towards Mr. Granger, "John, dear, can you unload the car? I'll leave the door open for you," and as she opened the door the cat slipped inside the house, as though it had been waiting for the opportunity all along.


	4. Chapter 4: Witch

**Chapter 4**

**Witch**

Hermione sat in her chair at the kitchen table, her legs swinging nervously, as she looked down at her hands in her lap. She had just told her parents about every odd occurrence she could remember, closing with her fall from the tree.

Her head snapped up when her dad cleared his throat. "Hermione, why don't you go up to your room while your mother and I talk?"

"Okay, Daddy," Hermione said as she stood and turned towards the stairs. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she held them in until she got to her room. She hated crying in front of people, even her parents.

_Meow._

Hermione gasped. There was that tabby cat, laying on her bed as though it did it every day. It must have snuck in earlier! She didn't want to get into any more trouble, so she slowly approached it. It backed away from her. Hermione lunged at it with her arms stretched out in front of her, but it was much quicker than her. The cat was already out the door before Hermione pushed herself off the bed to run after it.

The tabby had stopped at the bottom of the stairs as though waiting for her.

"Stay there, kitty!" Hermione whispered as she slowly descended the stairs.

She wasn't surprised when the cat headed off toward the kitchen instead. "No, kitty!" Hermione sped up, hoping to catch it before her parents saw. She had gotten in so much trouble a few years ago for bringing home a different stray animal every week. Now was not the time to be in trouble on top of being crazy.

"I think Hermione needs to be checked out by a doctor," her dad said.

"John! There is no way I am going to subject our eleven year old daughter to a barrage of tests just for a few simple fantasies. She's a kid! I'd be concerned if she _didn't _have an imagination!" her mom screeched.

Hermione had stopped cold at their words and momentarily forgot about the cat.

"What the-?" exclaimed her dad. "What is this cat doing in here?"

Hermione ran to the door, her mouth open to apologize and to say she would throw it out immediately. Instead all that escaped was a gasp.

As soon as Hermione had passed over the threshold, the cat grew larger and became human shaped. It was a woman!

She had dark hair that was piled upon her head in a bun, glasses that rested at the tip of her nose, and she wore dark emerald robes and a pointed hat upon her head.

Her parents' chairs had both clattered to the ground in their haste to rush over to Hermione. They now stood protectively in front of her as she peeked around her dad to stare at the strange woman.

"Hello. Sorry to startle you, but transforming in front of the parents of a Muggle-born makes everything I say afterwards more believable. Why don't we sit with some tea and I will explain everything?"

As the woman spoke, her parents seemed to relax slightly. It didn't seem like she was going to kill them all or anything, so they abided her suggestion and they both frankly needed to sit down as their legs were still a little shaky. Mrs. Granger started to walk to the stove to heat up some water, but the strange woman said, "Don't worry about it dear, I'll take care of it." She waved a stick and suddenly there was a whole tea tray, complete with biscuits, on the table.

Hermione couldn't seem to move; her mom guided her to the table, sitting protectively between her daughter and this stranger.

After they had all gotten their tea, the woman spoke again, "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione's name has been down in our books since she was born." She looked directly at Hermione, "You made quite an impression that day, young lady. We believe your daughter's magic helped save you, Mrs. Granger. Of course she didn't realize what she was doing, she simply sensed danger and the magic took over. In fact, it has done that all her life."

"I don't know what you mean. I was with Joyce the entire time," Mr. Granger said.

"Yes, you were, and you saw everything. I am afraid, though, that a rookie Obliviator thought you were the Muggle doctor and blocked your mind of all memory of the magic you saw that night and replaced it with everything going normally. Would you like for me to unblock your memory?"

"I…well…yes."

"Very well," she pointed her stick at Mr. Granger, smirking as he cringed, and waved it as she said something in Latin.

"John? Are you okay?" asked Mrs. Granger as she reached across the table to touch his hand.

"I'm fine. Oh my God…there was so much blood." He looked at Hermione and reached across the table to touch her cheek, "Thank you, sweetie. I could've lost…oh my God."

Hermione's dad bent over the table, supporting his head with his hand. She knew her dad loved her and her mom, but she had never imagined the mere thought of losing them would shake him so. They were not the kind of family that shared feelings.

"Now, Hermione won't be able to begin her studies until next September since the school year began on the first as it always does."

Hermione had almost forgotten the professor was there while wrapped up in a moment with her parents.

"So, I have to wait until next year?" Hermione didn't expect to feel so let down. It was not as though she had had any idea about Hogwarts just ten minutes prior. Now, all she could think about everything she didn't know about this other world and how much she wanted to learn.

"To go to school, yes."

Mrs. Granger spoke at this, "What makes you think we're going to let our daughter go off to some place we've never heard of to learn about magic? I mean, how absurd is that? Are there separate classes for pulling a rabbit out of one's hat and sawing people in half?"

Hermione sat lower in her chair, embarrassed by her mother's rudeness towards someone she found herself respecting more and more as time progressed.

Professor McGonagall laughed lightly, "Certainly not. I teach Transfiguration. I'll show you what we can do." And with a wave of her wand, one of the tea cups became a brightly colored bird which circled the table before settling on the professor's shoulder.

Mrs. Granger still was not impressed, "What use is that? Will Hermione learn anything useful at your school?"

"Hermione will learn to control her magic. As she grows older it will become more and more unmanageable if she doesn't. Many witches and wizards throughout our history have gone crazy from it. Some have even died as a direct result."

The Grangers were completely still. Mr. Granger spoke first. "We should let her go, Joyce. You didn't see what I saw…what the professor here just revealed to me. It wasn't some parlor trick…what Hermione can do…it can _save_ lives."

The witch nodded, "This is true. We have Healers, which are like your doctors except instead of medicine, they use magic. I assure you that it takes just as many years of study to learn as being a Muggle doctor does. We also have our own government, stores, media, law enforcement, and yes even our own bad guys." As she said "bad guys," Professor McGonagall's eyes became weary. Hermione furrowed her brow.

"Now, you do have the option of not sending Hermione to Hogwarts. She will need a wand either way, though. If you choose not to send her to Hogwarts, we have measures in place now to provide a tutor to teach Hermione to control her magic."

Hermione's stomach lurched. She had to go to Hogwarts. She just had to! For the first time in her life, it felt like everything was falling into place. There was a place in this world where she belonged and where she could possibly make a difference. As incredible as it sounded, Hermione hadn't doubted for a moment that she was a witch once the professor had told them. It explained too much to be false; it was too true to be taken from her before she had the chance to have it.

Her mother glanced at her father, "We'll think about it."

Professor McGonagall nodded understandingly and rose from her chair. She waved her wand to clear the virtually untouched tea tray and with another wave, the bird vanished into thin air. Hermione's stomach was in a vice and she couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"No! You can't leave! You just can't!" Unexpected tears swelled in her eyes, but Hermione blinked and let them flow freely down her cheeks, unabashed in her determination. "I have to know everything! Where is Hogwarts? What does it look like? What kind of classes would I take? How many others are there like me? I need to know! I have to know!" Hermione broke off into sobs and her mother pulled her into an embrace.

"Is there anything that we could read to learn more about this school?" her mother asked.

"Yes, of course." She waved her wand and presented Hermione with a large book. "Take care of it; it's my personal copy," she said with a kind smile.

"Oh I will! I will!" Hermione exclaimed as she immediately began flipping through the pages, trying to read it all at once.

And there she sat, long after Professor McGonagall had made her exit, only looking up at the loud cracking sound it made. Her parents had to pry the book out of her hands and force her to her bath and bed. Once under her warm blankets, with her soft pillow beneath her head, Hermione fell asleep immediately. She dreamed of a castle that night and the people she imagined to be within it. They were all like her and she had never felt so alive as she did in that first dream of Hogwarts, the place where she belonged.

A/N: Sorry this took so freaking long to write. I wrote the first paragraph months ago, the middle part a couple of weeks ago and I just now finished it. It's partly because I got distracted by other things and partly because when I sat down to write it, I realized how hard this moment is to write. Not only did I have to figure out Hermione's reaction, but her parents' as well. I'm hoping the next chapter will flow more quickly out of my mind and onto the page.


End file.
